


Cracks in the Surface

by Deniera



Series: Promptio Week [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Drama, Ficlet, M/M, Promptio Week 2017, Self-Discovery, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 18:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11363466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deniera/pseuds/Deniera
Summary: [For Promptio Week, Day 5: Memento]During the ten years of darkness when they all split up, Gladio carries a bright yellow chocobo feather with him at all times.





	Cracks in the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> It's 4 am as I finish this. Please don't judge too hard.
> 
> Not beta read.

 

It is easy to get lost these days.

Growing up Gladio had always known in which direction to go, what do to at what times. Get up early, physical exercise, attending private lessons along with very few other children, teaching him military history, combat strategy, ethics, psychological warfare on top of the usual curriculum. Combat training in the afternoon and on free days; his personal free time spent with Iris or reading.

Everything was perfectly attuned to lead and prepare him to his one duty: protecting the future king.

Everything he did was for this. Every scar, every broken bone, every injury, it all was for Noctis.

So when Noct disappeared into the crystal, he might as well have taken Gladio with him, because all that was left was an empty shell.

Gladio, trimmed and trained and shaped to be the shield for his whole life, had suddenly lost his purpose, and with that, himself.

And shortly after that, had also lost Ignis and Prompto, whom he had left to themselves. With Noctis gone, there wasn’t really a point in sticking together, wasn’t there? Or so he had thought.

Being alone after weeks spent together, he had realized they had been the only thing keeping him together, soft fixtures around a broken vase. Now he felt like all of himself was falling apart without Ignis soothing voice and Prompto’s cheerful laugh, drawing obscure attention to the disgusting emptiness within him. Who was he? Who had he ever been?

In the darkness, Gladio had begun his journey to find the small boy of four years, smitten by the beauty of nature, engrossed with simple science.

He suddenly remembered being hungry for knowledge, _Where does the air come from?_ , _How can birds fly?_ , _Where goes the sun at night? –_ he begun to remember the boy he used to be, before he had become the Royal Shield.

What had this boy dreamed of?              

These days, Gladio spends his time rediscovering himself and getting sporadically furious without a real reason.

He walks the dusty grounds of Lucis, watches how the vegetation turns in the absence of sunlight, and tries to recall the chemical processes responsible for the dying plants.

He observes wild beasts and animals on his journeys, how their behavior change, how species disappear while other suddenly thrive , and tries to think of what Sania would have to say about it. Whenever he meets her, a rare occurrence nowadays, he is hungry for information, for explanations, for theories and models and plans on how to adapt the human population to the darkness, to the changes of their world.

The first time he sees Prompto again after months and months alone hurt like the day Noctis had disappeared. Prompto, dirt all over his face and long shadows under his eyes, looks at him with a grimace that is apparently supposed to be a smile, but Gladio sees it for what it is – a desperate attempt of cheerfulness.

Gladio wants to collect him in his arms, embrace him like he used to do, back when things were still okay. He wants to stay with him and make sure he is okay, feeling the by now familiar rage bubbling under his skin, aimed at himself. How could he ever leave Prompto?

Prompto, who had been through so much already, and if anything, deserves every bit of happiness he could get?

But at the same time, Gladio knows that he needs more time, just a little. He doesn’t want to offer Prompto this broken, half-mended shell, ready to fall apart at the smallest tremor.

So they say goodbye again. Prompto’s gaze is steely when he leaves and Gladio has a sudden feeling of dread.

He won’t see Prompto again for a long, long time after that.

The loneliness gets too much at times. For the first time since he was a child, Gladio cries, loud, desperate sobs all by himself, somewhere out in the darkness of Lucis.

It feels like a door has finally opened. He cries for Noct, for Prompto and Ignis, for Insomnia and the life that will never return, for his father, for his lost childhood.

He cries for the person he could have been, if he had been born free.

After that, he sits there and thinks. Gladio feels like a haze has been pulled from his vision, and suddenly, he sees much more clear.

Sania is not surprised when he seeks her out to ask her to introduce him to her work. She explains scientific concepts and methods to him, how statistics work and how he can develop projects of his own to observe and research. The excitement that surges through him upon working, actually working with her instead of just doing minor jobs, is exhilarating.

One day, he finds a single small chocobo feather. It is soiled with dirt, and he almost throws it away immediately, but then he thinks of the times he used to make fun of Prompto’s hair, how it was actually soft to the touch whenever he buried his hands in it. He thinks of long days on chocobo’s backs, racing his friend, cuddling with the big birds at havens at night, and he decides to keep it.

He carries it with him everywhere, always within reach.

In Lestallum he meets Ignis again, but Prompto stays out of reach. Gladio is afraid for him, even though he knows the younger man can fend for himself, but the lands are far more dangerous these days, and he can’t help being worried.

After staying in town for a few days, spending time with Ignis, Gladio decides to start hunting again.

Noctis may be in the crystal, may never return, but that doesn’t mean that Gladio cannot do his part to keep the Lucian people save. He is reluctant to waste all this training he went through, feeling as those long years would otherwise be wasted.

Plus, he hopes to stumble over Prompto at some point.

When they finally, finally meet each other again, Prompto looks different. He has tired lines on his face and sports a little goatie. Gladio walks straight up and swoops him into his arms, hugging and holding him close and breathing hard into his hair. He smells different, too.

“Are you finally back?” Prompto chokes out and presses a kiss to the sweaty skin of Gladio’s neck.

Gladio hugs him closer. He is finally a whole person, and he is not going to leave again.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
